The sky was still dark when Yan Jiayi left home. Her uniform was neat, her ID card safely tucked in her bag, and her pen case arranged like weapons ready for battle. Today was the college entrance exam. The exam that would decide everything—her future, her university, her life.

Her parents stood by the gate, eyes filled with both pride and worry. “Don’t be nervous, Jiayi,” her mother whispered. “You’ve always been our brightest star.”

Yan Jiayi smiled slightly. “I’ve prepared. I’ll be fine.”

She always was.

She climbed into the car, headphones in, review notes on her lap. But fate doesn’t wait for the prepared.

Halfway to the exam center, the world went white.

There was a screech of tires. Shattered glass. A loud bang. Then… nothing.

She didn’t know how long it had been. But when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in a hospital room. She floated in a gray space, hazy and unreal, like the world was half-dream and half-nightmare.

Below her, she could see herself—hooked to machines, unmoving.

And next to the bed, her mother sobbed silently while her father stared blankly ahead. Their faces looked older, more broken, as if they’d aged in days.

Yan Jiayi reached out. “Mom… Dad…”

But her voice didn’t come out.

Then came the voice. Smooth, almost cheerful.

[Ding! Welcome, Candidate No. 027! Congratulations on entering the System Universe Trial Run.]

“What…?” Jiayi spun around. No one was there. Only the voice.

[Would you like a chance to change your fate? Complete tasks across different worlds. In return, the system will assist you in recovery and extend your life force.]

A system? Like in a novel?

Her logical mind tried to reject it—but what else was there to do in a coma? And her parents… they were still crying. Still hoping.

“…Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll do it.”

[Excellent! Starting compatibility scan… Processing… Processing… Match found! Transferring consciousness to World No. 1875.]

Jiayi braced herself, thinking it’d be like entering a dream.

She was wrong.

The next moment, she was no longer weightless.

She hit the ground hard, knees scraping stone. The scent of blood filled her nose.

All around her were corpses—some still warm. The battlefield was silent except for the wind, carrying the scent of metal and death.

And in front of her stood a man, tall and terrifying. Red robes billowed. A long sword hung at his side, fresh blood still dripping from its edge.

His eyes, deep and empty, locked on her.

[Target identified: Male Lead. Objective: Save him from falling to darkness.]

[Blackening Value: 94]

“Wait… 94?” she blurted.

The system had said beginner-friendly.

What kind of family-friendly mission drops you in front of a walking bloodbath?!

“System?” she called out.

No response.

Only the sound of that man’s footsteps… getting closer.

He was walking toward her.

She looked around—realized she wasn’t on a battlefield, but inside an ancient mansion. The stone floor was cracked. Blood pooled everywhere. Lanterns swung gently above, casting shadows that made everything feel haunted. Walls were stained. Furniture broken. It felt like this place had died a long time ago… and dragged everyone with it.

And that man—

He was like a ghost. Pale skin. Long black hair stuck to his face. His expression was unreadable. His eyes were… empty, but dangerous. Like he had nothing left to lose.

Yan Jiayi’s legs refused to move.

He took a step closer.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She took a shaky step back—then tripped over something. She fell hard, her back hitting the cold ground.

She looked up—and he was right in front of her.

He raised his sword.

She flinched—but the blade didn’t strike.

Instead, he used the very tip—still dripping with blood—to lift her chin.

Her eyes went wide.

Her heart thumped so loud she was sure he could hear it.

She didn’t dare to breathe.

The sword tip pressed against her chin, cold and unforgiving. Her heart raced, each beat louder than the last, filling her ears, drowning out everything else.

The man didn’t speak, didn’t move, except to hold her gaze with his empty, yet intense, eyes. His face was deathly pale, his lips painted with an emotion she couldn’t place—disgust? Hatred? A mixture of both?

Yan Jiayi’s pulse thudded painfully against her ribs. She didn’t dare to speak, didn’t dare to move. The sharp edge of his sword seemed like the only thing grounding her in this nightmare world.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The system hadn’t warned her about any of this.

His voice finally broke the heavy silence.

“Who are you?” The words were as cold as the blade beneath her chin.

“I… I’m just—” She hesitated, the words sticking to her throat. “I’m no one.”

The man didn’t respond, his expression unchanged. His sword, still pressed against her skin, made her feel small, insignificant.

The air felt heavier with each passing second, like the weight of this new world, of his presence, was pressing down on her chest. She could feel the heat of the blood staining the ground beneath her, the smell of iron filling her nose.

“You’re not just ‘no one,’” he muttered, more to himself than to her. His gaze flickered to her eyes, lingering on her face for a moment. “You’re too clean for that.”

Yan Jiayi’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The man’s lips curled into a half-smile, bitter and cruel. He leaned down slightly, bringing the sword tip even closer to her skin, almost grazing it. The intensity of his presence, the danger he exuded, made her feel as if she were drowning in his very aura.

“You’re a princess.” His words were harsh, like a slap to the face. “And I am your enemy. Your kingdom is nothing now. Your crown—nothing but a joke.”

Gulping down his words, Yan Jiayi sat frozen. She didn’t understand anything.

Me… princess...?

She blinked in a daze.

Her mind instantly cursed.

Trash system! Where’s my script?!

The man’s sword lowered a little, but his eyes stayed locked on her.

"The royal family is dead," he said, voice cold. "Now you’re the only one left. Tell me, how should I end you?"

Yan Jiayi’s heart stopped for a second.

Oh… so that’s the case.

Instead of begging, she quietly asked, "Who are you?"

She knew she shouldn’t be questioning him. She knew one wrong word could end her here.

But her mouth moved anyway.

The man was stunned for a breath. Then he laughed.

It wasn’t mocking—it was bright, carefree.

Under the blood, his exquisite face lit up like the sun, dazzling and wild.

"I already said," he chuckled, voice deep and dangerous, "I’m your enemy."

Yan Jiayi bit her lip.

Enemy, huh? At least you’re honest.

The sword was still close, but her mind spun quickly.

She took another risk.

"Which princess… am I?"

The man raised an eyebrow at her boldness.

He bent closer, almost face-to-face, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"Which princess?" he repeated slowly, as if savoring the words.

"You’ll find out... before you die."

" Which princess you are."

Yan Jiayi’s throat tightened.

Before she could even react, the man suddenly withdrew his sword.

The blade slipped away from her skin with a cold whisper, but the danger didn’t fade.

If anything, it grew heavier.

"Get up," he ordered lazily, spinning the blood-stained sword in his hand like it was a toy.

Yan Jiayi hesitated, but seeing the casual killing intent in his eyes, she slowly pushed herself off the bloody ground.

Her legs trembled slightly, but she stood.

He looked her up and down with a strange interest, as if studying a piece of art he wasn’t sure whether to destroy or keep.

"Since you’re the last princess," he said, stepping back a little, "let’s play a little game."

Yan Jiayi's heart thudded.

Game? What game? Am I supposed to be happy I get to die slower?

The man’s smile deepened as if he could hear her thoughts.

"If you survive till tomorrow morning," he said lightly, "I’ll consider sparing your life."

Yan Jiayi stiffened.

Survive? Till morning?

In this blood-soaked, ruined place?

Seeing her blank face, he chuckled again, low and dangerous.

"Of course," he added casually, "I won’t make it easy."

With a snap of his fingers, the heavy doors behind him creaked open slowly, revealing the darkness beyond.

The air shifted.

Low, guttural growls echoed from the shadows.

Yan Jiayi’s scalp went numb.

System!! Trash system!! Is there no beginner protection mode?!!

But silence answered her.

No guidance. No protection. No script.

Only her, the enemy general… and the monsters waiting in the dark.

The man tilted his head, sword resting lazily on his shoulder.

"Run, little princess," he said, smiling that blinding, deadly smile.

"Let’s see how long you last."

Yan Jiayi didn’t wait another second.

The moment the words left his mouth, she spun around and ran — ran with every bit of strength left in her battered body.

Behind her, the low growls grew louder.

Monsters... real monsters!

She didn’t even dare look back.

Her thin shoes slipped against the blood-slick floors, but she forced herself forward, blindly pushing into the dark corridors of the ruined mansion.

The once grand hallways were broken and decayed.

Torn tapestries hung like ghosts, shattered tiles crunched under her feet, the heavy scent of blood never fading.

Somewhere behind her, faint footsteps echoed—slow, unhurried.

He was following her.

Not running.

Not chasing.

Just walking.

As if confident she couldn’t escape anyway.

Yan Jiayi's heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst.

System... any help now would be nice... really nice!

Still nothing.

Only the moaning wind through the broken windows, and the wet snarls growing closer.

Turning a sharp corner, she stumbled into a side room.

It was dark, but she slammed the door behind her and pressed her body against it, gasping for breath.

In the dim light, she could barely make out a massive, cracked mirror and rotten furniture scattered around.

Her knees weakened. She slid down to the floor, hugging herself tightly.

She bit her lip hard to keep from crying.

This isn’t a dream, is it...?

This is real. I could really die here.

Suddenly—

Creak.

The door under her back rattled lightly.

Something heavy brushed against the other side.

Yan Jiayi froze, breath caught in her throat.

A long, low growl rumbled from beyond the door.

Not human.

Not the red-robed man.

Something else.

Her fingers tightened into fists.

If she stayed here, she’d die.

If she ran again, she might still die.

But staying still is definitely death.

She gritted her teeth.

Slowly, silently, she rose to her feet, looking for anything — anything — to defend herself.

Her eyes landed on a broken chair leg lying near the mirror.

Not much. But better than nothing.

She grabbed it tightly.

The next second—

BAM!

The door smashed open.

And a shadow lunged at her from the darkness.